I didn’t recall how much time went by, but for what seemed like a month I had gone through doors that lead into nightmares where Liza would give me lectures on how bad its going, how much of its my fault, how we probably won’t find a way to see one another again and the rest of the list of all betweens, mixed in with memories we shared that were somewhat skewed into a delusional state of being past – as if I won’t experience something like those again, along with malevolent actual memories of the time that we spent together.

After each encounter with her I would go off into rooms that would just remind me of nothing – complete disconnection from her and the foregone world and how beautiful it was. My recollection was fading as I became ever more addicted to the nights out with strangers, hopping from bar to bar, to strip club. Getting taxis and hanging out the window sticking my tongue between my index finger and middle finger to symbolize my freedom in delusionment and pure heartbrokenness in celebration.

I would venture into the same door until it disappeared and searched planes until I eventually found one where I could completely let myself go.

There were friends as heartbroken as I was, as addicted to disconnection as I was and willing to talk about all the nothings that simply distract.

Unlike other worlds where there was money or some other form of trade good that would keep me down, this world was based on the amount of fun you deliver to the people around you and that meant the more friends I had the richer I was.

I can be silly if I want to be, and right now I cannot snap back into the emotional self that was the me that was actually in touch with his heart.

After about 3 weeks, I had overstayed my welcome and I was politely asked to leave, or move. Everyone knew there was going to be the clown at one of the town clubs that night and since the influx of people could not cover my anonymity it became obvious that my behaviour was bordering on misuse.

In retrospect is was reckless, yet I still feel the yearning to remove my inner self from myself and binge.

Sitting in the place I call my own today, the world has crumbled. The cat does not visit, I have eat more regularly and I am getting tired of going out and trying again. Trying to put on a brave face and trying to get by without collapsing into her lap.

It was terrible – the nightmares – and now I am filled with so much doubt and angst that I hardly know where to go, summon up any energy or get my bearings straight.

I was always filled with so much self-confidence and I had a plan. Simply always. Yet now the bad life is taking its toll. I need rehab.